Chapter 5
Arab and Lil Wheat were being fussed over by Mrs. Grabowski when Brand joined them on the patio at poolside. Arab smiled at him as though nothing had come down between them the night before. "Good morning, darling."
"Morning, Mother. Mrs. Grabowski. Lil."
Arab asked, "Did you sleep well, darling?"
"Not really." "Bad dreams?"
Brand shook his head. "More like wet dreams."
Mrs. Grabowski tittered.
Lil Wheat turned her head toward the swimming pool and murmured in a voice that only Arab heard, "Methinks I hear a tiger growling."
Arab locked glances with Brand. "Don't be crude, darling. You're embarrassing Mrs. Grabowski."
Brand smiled at the football-breasted woman. "I'm sorry."
Mrs. Grabowski nodded and walked away, big breasts bouncing. Lil Wheat followed her.
The instant they were alone, Arab looked at Brand and said bluntly, "I expected to discover shame in your eyes this morning, darling."
"Why? I didn't rape you, Mother.
"Don't be flippant, young man. After the horrible things you did to me last night with your cock, you should get down on your knees and beg my forgiveness."
Brand smiled without humor. "I quit doing the begging dog number for anything right after I took that damn cypress paddle away from you last night, Mother."
Arab locked glances with him. "I honestly don't know what I'm going to do with you, darling. I don't mind admitting that I'm at the end of my rope. I did my best to raise you properly, but it didn't seem to—"
"You did your best to ruin me, not raise me," Brand snapped, his own temper rising. "You kept me castrated in every way possible. Find yourself another monkey to dance while you grind your organ, Mother. I have my own number to do, and I'm going to start doing it right after we finish this conversation ... by moving out of this damn unhappy beach grave."
Arab's voice sharpened. "You can't be serious."
"Can't I? Don't bet your hot ass on that; you might lose it."
Arab shivered in the hot morning sunshine, but the cold she felt was her own misery. "I'm not going to hassle you any more, Brandon. Your mind is made up; I won't try to change it. Do whatever you think is best for you."
"I intend to, Mother."
Arab forced a smile to her lips. "You've never wanted for anything that lack of money kept you from having, darling. I won't let you want now. You'll need money to live on. First class all the way. I'll make arrangements for you at the bank. Are you going to leave Harbor City, darling?"
"I think so, Mother."
"To where?"
He shrugged. "I don't know, Mother. And at the moment I couldn't care less. All I know is that I can't stay here."
"Why not? Because you used your cock on me last night?"
"That's part of the reason, but not all of it. I wish I could make you understand how it is with me, Mother. There is no special place I want to go, there is nothing special I want to do ... except my own thing."
"I see. Will you be traveling alone?"
The corners of his mouth lifted. "You're fishing, Mother. Why don't you come right out and ask me if I'm including Denise Crocker in my trip to nowhere in particular?"
"I won't ask," she said quietly. "I don't think I'd like the answer." She glanced at her diamond-studded wrist watch. "I've got to get to the office with this week's payroll, so take your time packing. Wherever you land, keep in touch. And if you need anything, call me."
He nodded. "I won't make you chew your nails over me, Mother. I'll keep in touch."
Arab didn't try to kiss him good-by. Remembering last night and the way he had fucked her into unconsciousness the way no man had ever fucked her unconscious before, she desperately, oh so desperately, wanted to mash her mouth against his and rub her hungry cunt over his magnificent cock, but she didn't. Instead, she reached across the redwood table to give his hand a quick squeeze, and then she entered the house in search of Lil Wheat and Mrs. Grabowski, her thoughts scheming ...
Brand remained seated at the redwood table until he saw his mother drive off down the beach road. Then he went to his bedroom to do some hasty packing ... and found the cypress paddle he had used on Mother's shapely ass.
He stared at it. He made a derisive sound. Here it was. The last dig. The last word. Heavy, heavy. This was Mother's way of trying to make him feel guilty about the incest number he had done with her approval last night.
The paddle could be her way of trying to tell him that she was willing to let him use this hunk of wood on her insatiable ass ... again.
Possible. But did he want to use the paddle on her ass again?
The answer was no. He shook his head. No way. All he wanted between Mother and himself was a lot of distance, and the sooner the better.
He tossed the cypress paddle on the bed and muttered harshly, "Better luck next time, Mother."
Somebody knocked on his door.
"Come in," he called, expecting to see Lil Wheat.
Mrs. Grabowski entered. She walked up to him, big breasts jiggling, leaving the door open behind her. She stopped and held out her hands, then said, "Brandon, come to me, please."
"Yes, Mrs. Grabowski?"
She took his hands in hers and held them against her gigantic breasts. "You are leaving home, Brandon?"
He looked down into her eyes. "Yes. I hope you didn't come here to try and talk me into staying."
"No." Her football-sized breasts rose and fell against his hands. "It is good that you learn how to stand on your own feet like a man, Brandon. What you did this morning at the breakfast table was not easy for you, I know, but it is something you should have done sooner."
"It had to happen, Mrs. Grabowski."
"I know." She rubbed the tips of her breasts against his hands. "After last night there was nothing left for you but to explode. You could not back down any more. So it is good that you spread your wings and fly away to do what you call your own thing, Brandon. Some day you will learn the truth about yourself and your mother. Then you will come back here where you belong and everything will be good between all of us once more. Not until then."
He shook his head. "I don't think I'll ever come back, Mrs. Grabowski."
"Because of what you did with Mrs. Foxhill last night?" She smiled at the expression on his face, then continued. "Ever since you were a baby I could read your looks, Brandon. This morning I saw your face and I knew what had happened."
He watched her closely. "You don't seem repulsed by what happened between me and my mother. Why?"
"It is not for me to say, Brandon. Besides, what is bad, or as you say, repulsive? People who love one another sometimes do funny things and it doesn't bother. Like from when you were little and you would ask to see my breasts and I would open my dress and show them to you. Sometimes I would even let you touch them because it made you feel good. There was no shame for you. I did these things because I loved you. Your mother let you do what you did to her last night for the same reason."
His voice turned sad. "I wish I could believe you, Mrs. Grabowski, but I can't. My head isn't on straight any more after last night."
"I know, Brandon. And this is why it is good that you are leaving. The head and the heart will straighten and bring you home where you belong. You'll see." She hugged his hands to her massive breasts again, then released them. "Good-by and good luck, Brandon."
She turned away from him and crossed the room.
"Mrs. Grabowski."
She faced him again. "Yes, Brandon?"
He smiled at her. "It wouldn't be right for me to leave here without a picture of you."
A puzzled look crawled over her face. "I do not understand, Brandon."
His voice turned teasing. "And you said you were good at reading my looks."
She stared at him for a long moment. Then, slowly, a smile spread across her face. "To read means to look, Brandon. I did not look so I did not see. Now I do. You want to see my breasts."
"I want to see and touch them."
"Just that?"
"Just that. Unless you want me to do more. Do you?"
"No. I am different as all men and women are different, Brandon. I do not need a stiff peter in my hole to make me come. Even when my husband was with me I did not need it. Having my breasts touched and kissed is all I need to make my juices flow. That is all I want from you, Brandon."
"And that's all you'll get from me," he told her solemnly. "Close the door, please."
Mrs. Grabowski closed the door and walked back to him, breasts heaving, eyes shining.
He ran his eyes over her body. She was wearing a pale blue button-down-the-front uniform. He unloosened the buttons, changed his mind. "I'd rather watch. You do it."
Hands lifted, fingers flew. One button. Two. Three. All the way down to her waist. She started to draw her uniform top aside to show him her crowded bra. He shook his head. "Take it all the way off, Mrs. Grabowski."
She followed the buttons all the way down to the hem line. She slipped out of the dress.
He had never seen her naked. He wanted to see her naked now. Not because he wanted to fuck her.
"Take off your panties and let me see your pussy, Mrs. Grabowski."' He saw her eyebrows arch. "It's all right. I won't try to make you."
She eased the panties down over her ample hips and stepped out of them. He admired the dark mat of hair around her cunt for a few seconds, then said, "Now the bra."
Brand stood silent, patiently waiting. Finally the bra loosened, letting her big breasts surge to bare freedom.
She glanced down at her large breasts. She put a hand under each. Her eyes remained fastened to her breasts as she pushed each high, dark rings lifting.
"Here, Brandon," she said thickly. "Here is the picture you wanted to remember me by."
He reached out and touched the warm slopes of her breasts. Then he trapped her long jutting nipples between thumbs and forefingers and gently manipulated them.
Mrs. Grabowski threw back her head, eyes closed. She moaned softly, flesh trembling.
"It is good what you are doing to my nipples with your fingers, Brandon," she said through tight teeth. "I am starting to feel it between my legs."
He tweaked her nipples for a few more seconds. Then he attacked them with his mouth. Her arms coiled around his head. He felt her breasts rise and fall, her nipples now very hard.
He wanted to give her a come. He started sucking and gnawing on the hard nipple in his mouth. Tremors shook her naked body. She tightened her arms around his head and smothered the back of his neck with hot kisses.
He kept sucking, teething, wanting her to come.
He knew she was on the verge.
Suddenly her full body tensed, her thighs tightened, and her arms turned into vises around his head.
She remained tense for another second or two ... and then she trembled and erupted.
She stopped quivering, moaning. Her breathing remained heavy. He gave her nipple a few more healthy sucks, then let it slip out of his mouth. She sighed.
He smiled at Mrs. Grabowski. "I satisfied you. I'm glad."
Brand picked her dress from the chair and helped her into it. Her long nipples still jutted. Her cunt nearly creamed again as he dipped his head and kissed each nipple through the material that covered them, then stepped back.
She started buttoning her dress from the bottom, stopped when she reached her waist to give him a final look at her bra-covered breasts. Then she finished buttoning her uniform. "I will not ask you to keep in touch as Mrs. Foxhill did, Brandon. I will simply wait for you to come home again. She moved toward the door. "Good-bye, Brandon."
"Good-bye, Mrs. Grabowski."